


Ignition

by MariaMagica



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bomb Aftermath, Bombs, Canon Divergence, Defying Fate, Feelings, Graphic Descriptions of Suffering and Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, People Dying In Dreams, Prophetic Dreams, Supernatural Elements, Unusual Ending, Zen Route Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:51:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8634040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaMagica/pseuds/MariaMagica
Summary: His dreams were often fated to become real. But if Zen was a fool for defying fate, he was going to be the biggest damn fool possible.
MASSIVE content warning for a bomb going off, people suffering and dying right off the bat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's something about Zen's dreams that are so fun to write about. This was originally a drabble but Jumin walked out of my phone and slapped me hard so I kept on writing. I've already written most of the story so I will probably upload a chapter every one or two days.

Screams. Sirens. Unintelligible yells. The heavy scent of iron and smoke. Someone was crying. 

His neck was hurting, twisted in a wrong way. He felt concrete under his face and sand in his hair, trickling down in his collar. His back was in agony, every signal in his brain telling him he needed to move.

Get up.

**Move!**

…

Why couldn’t he move? He could barely feel his legs, like an elephant was sitting on top of them. Some strange part of his mind told himself to ask the elephant to get lost but his jaw felt so heavy. His arms finally functioned, fingers touching loose gravel and something like sand but a lot finer.

Slowly he opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, vague objects swirling in front of him. He felt sick, wanted to throw up. As he shifted his body slightly, searing white pain shot up his pain, rendering him immobile for a few seconds as he clenched his fists. There were large shapes in the distance, running around. None of them were running to him.

His eyes focused a little more. He was able to see rough outlines but details were almost invisible. There were slabs of rock in front of him, piled at odd angles. Behind that he could make out a building of some sorts. Its right side was completely destroyed, a large hole that almost looked like something had bitten a chunk out of it. Pipes were sticking out of it, leaking some kind of liquid. Small bits kept falling down. In the sky he saw thick, black smoke. Bits and pieces of paper and ash rained from the sky. It was almost serene.

Finding a bit of inner strength, he carefully turned his head, feeling his skin of his ears scrape along the asphalt, hair sticking to his cheekbones. There was a pool of something dark too close to his arm and he averted his eyes away from it, trying to deny its existence. Close to him he saw another shape, no doubt belonging to a human being. He made out black hair and a dark suit that was torn at the arms. The body was angled in such an unnatural way that made him feel sick. He didn’t see his face.

He knew who it was.

“Jumin-” 

He was trying to yell but he could barely speak up, throat dry and burning. His body jerked, his brain unable to handle the barrage of signals that came from the pain and the feelings of anger _sadnessdespair_ that came flooding in.

After failing another attempt of yelling his name, voice breaking up instantly, he tried to get up. He barely turned before his body alarmed him that something was really wrong with his legs. He looked down and saw a big piece of gray concrete right on top of his hind legs, blocking any other possible movement. He didn’t feel his feet at all.

God no. God no why no why-

He looked back towards Jumin who still hadn’t budged. He wasn’t stuck under anything, just maybe… Maybe he was okay. He kept telling himself this lie, the back of his mind trying its best to make him notice that the heir’s upper body wasn’t moving like it was supposed to when he breathes. He stretched his arm out as far as he could, tried to reach Jumin’s arm which was nearest to him.

He couldn’t reach him.

His fingers desperately stretched out but couldn’t even touch the fabric. Not even a freaking pinstripe. He was so close and yet…

“Jumin!” Rasping. Burning. Stinging pain.

Why was it so hard? Frustration and fear built up rapidly and he felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes. He clawed the ground, sharp pieces making tiny cuts in his skin. He wasn’t sure if he had balled up his fist and slammed the ground or if he was just imagining doing that.

The anger didn’t last. His mind started to cloud, his surroundings going dark within seconds. He felt his body slow and his hands stop their movements. It was almost impossible to breathe. As he struggled to stay conscious, he heard voices coming closer. Were they calling for him or Jumin?

Please. 

_Please!_

He couldn’t stop the darkness from consuming his mind.

 

White. He saw only white. 

A shadow moved like a wave over the white surface as a car outside passed his window.

Zen was looking at his ceiling. Eyes wide open, his body tense as he realized he was lying in his bed, completely drenched in sweat. The sheets felt disgusting as they stuck to his skin and he sat up too quickly, reeling from the adrenaline, his stomach screaming in protest.

A nightmare?

But it was so detailed and vivid.

He held his hand up, noting it was shaking, even in the darkness. His clock told him it was 5 AM. 

Damn it.

The sound of flowing water from the kitchen tap calmed him down a bit. He wasn’t even thirsty but in the dream his throat had been so dry, it was as if he still felt it. The emotions he had felt in the dream were still there, tormenting him.

He had been so helpless. He should have – could have done something, anything but… When Jumin’s body entered his mind vision, he forced himself to drink and choked.

As he took another sip, desperate to calm down, he told himself it was just heavy stress. The RFA party was tomorrow and he had been dealing with so many problems thanks to Echo Girl and his formerly broken leg, nightmares were bound to happen. The mind was such a fickle thing – despite everyone around him working to help him out and knowing that tomorrow everything could be solved, his brain just wanted him to suffer.

As he lay back down on his bed, clean bedsheets erasing any physical traces of his troubled dream, he repeated his self-made mantra. Sleep overtook him within minutes.

He would wake late in the morning, feeling like he barely slept at all.

 

The party went smooth as butter, the amount of evidence Yoosung found on Echo Girl and testimonies from her manager were more than enough to clear Zen’s name. It wasn’t long before all the reporters left so they could publish the story faster than the others. Zen made sure to praise Yoosung well for his tiring work.

Things continued on as normal with guests networking their hearts out. He let out a big sigh of relief that he didn’t know he was holding back and focused on his new task at hand. Their latest addition to the RFA was here and he was excited to meet her for the first time. Now that she was standing at the bar alone, he took his chance.

Armed with a bouquet of roses, he walked over to MC who was wearing an adorable burgundy-colored dress. He presented the flowers with a flourish, making himself look even more handsome, which frankly was impossible.

“For you, princess. For your support during my trying times.” She thanked him happily and took the flowers, putting her face near them to smell their scent. Zen gave her a moment and patted himself mentally on the back for knowing what ladies loved.

His eyes fell on someone in the background. Jumin was standing there next to Jaehee, discussing something that obviously made her stress out. His mind went back to the dream instantly. The screams, the dust, the smoke, the torn suit, the dark stain… Remembering him lying there completely immobile brought back a tight feeling in his gut. He was breathing now, right?

“Zen? Zen!” 

MC’s voice brought him back to reality fast. Her confused look embarrassed him thoroughly.

Wow, Zen, could you be any more of a loser right now?

“I’m so sorry!” His face was nearly as red as his eyes, holding his hands up as if he was scared she would run away. She simply laughed.

“It’s quite alright, you wanted to ask me something?”

She was so kind even though he had been extremely rude. He coughed, recovering quickly.

Cool and collected, he asked her out on a date, throwing in enough charm to woo the entire room. While he noticed some girls in the back staring at him with a desire that told him he was doing a good job, MC only looked at the flowers guiltily, fingers toying with the plastic wrapping.

Oh.

“Zen, you’re really sweet but… There’s someone else I like. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to send the wrong signals.”

She hadn’t been sending wrong signals. If anything, he had been.

She told him not to give up when he broke his leg. She comforted him when Echo Girl unleashed her horrible scandal. Encouraged him to continue his acting and even helped him become friends with Jumin again. But not once had she actively flirted with him, even though he complimented her endlessly and called her cute names. She even encouraged Jaehee to go to Zen when the personal assistant offered, not a single sign of jealousy.

He had hoped that they could become more than friends. It would have been nice to date again but perhaps he had been too enamored with the idea of it.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong… Thank you for being honest.” He hoped that didn’t sound pathetic as all hell.

She smiled brightly, nodded and excused herself to look for a vase for the flowers, though Zen suspected she didn’t want whoever it was she liked to get the wrong idea about her and him. 

He sighed. It had been worth a shot. He felt a little dejected but he wasn’t heartbroken. He had made an awesome new friend and there were plenty of fish in the sea. Time for him to get a beer.

When he saw her again, she was making small talk with Jaehee and Jumin at the entrance hall. Wait. 

Maybe she liked Jumin? The idea of the two of them together brought out the envy demon a little faster than he’d like to admit. Before he could think any more on it, she quickly wandered off again, Jaehee following her. 

Calm the hell down Zen. It’s probably nothing. And besides, it’s not a big deal if she likes Jumin, right?

Inwardly he wanted to ask her a million questions to try to figure out whom she truly liked but decided against it. It was none of his business after all. Quickly he took a swig of his beer, pretending it could douse the annoying thoughts.

During the evening he spent some time with each member of the RFA whenever he wasn’t surrounded by ladies who fawned over him like no tomorrow. Yoosung and Seven were all too happy to brag about their computer skills, though when Seven continued to prank him with his own knowledge on coding, Zen gave up on defending the poor naïve blond. Jaehee and MC were possibly even more relieved than he was with the whole Echo Girl thing now behind him.

The party was coming to a close. He spotted Jumin alone with his glass of red wine near the wall and decided to join him with a beer. They had only recently buried the hatchet, perhaps he could bond with the man a bit more now that they had some alcohol in their system. Alcohol made a man more honest and in his opinion, Jumin could stand to show a bit more of himself.

_And maybe he could stop thinking of him lying on that God forsaken asphalt._

He made eye contact with Jumin as he walked over, saw his dark eyes light up a bit. Was that a hint of a smile?

Just before he got there, a short balding man in a green tweed blazer grabbed his attention. Always working, that businessman. Zen decided to wait until they were done talking, only to be surprised when the short man’s face flared up in anger and grabbed the front of Jumin’s tuxedo jacket. Whoa, not cool.

Quickly he marched over to them, trying to look as menacing as possible. It worked as the man backed off and walked away, clearly fuming. He let out a relieved sigh, Jumin still as calm as before. Trust fund kid was so weird sometimes, he couldn’t get used to it.

“What was that all about?”

Jumin fidgeted with his sleeve as he watched the man leave the building. “That was Mr. Seomun from Seomun & Son. C&R International was going to finance them in their latest business venture. Unfortunately due to bad budgeting on their part, they went bankrupt before the contract was signed. He seems to blame me for losing everything.”

“Wow, that’s harsh.”

“I agree, it’s not like C&R could have had anything to do with-“

“No Jumin, I meant it’s harsh that they lost everything.” So dense. It wouldn’t be Jumin if he wasn’t thinking of his dad’s company 24/7. 

He rolled his eyes and wanted to change the subject but Jumin was faster.

“Just so you know, I’ve arranged everything needed for you to star in the Holistic for Glorious Cats commercial.”

Ah right, the cat commercial. His nose started itching already. He wasn’t looking forward to it at all but he had promised. Besides, it was the least he could do for Jumin.

“So when will we get the show on the road?”

“Tomorrow morning we’ll start.”

“T-tomorrow?!” That was way too soon! He wasn’t mentally prepared at all! He nearly spit out his beer and protested heavily. Jumin just looked at him like he was being daft again, which irritated Zen to no end.

“Why not? Is it not the most productive to do it as soon as possible?”

“Producti- See, this is the problem Jumin. Stop thinking in what is the most logical and business rational. Instead focus on the person behind it. Maybe Mr. Seomun wouldn’t be so angry if it felt like C&R was still willing to back him up somehow. We’re people, not robots.” 

“Hmm.” He saw Jumin stare into the distance for a few seconds, thinking. Did he get through that thick skull of his?

“But everything is already prepared for tomorrow. It would really be in everyone’s best interest if you joined them.”

Never mind. Zen let out a groan and accepted his fate. He should have known – they may understand each other a little better but he was still a stupid jerk. It was nothing short of a miracle that Jumin even offered him to model for another commercial.

“Fine, fine.” He grumbled. The both of them drank their alcohol in peace, Jumin trying to start a conversation about his stupid furball (“Her name is Elizabeth the 3rd, can you please say it properly-“) as if that would actually make him ready for the commercial.

At least Jumin gave him the heads up for it. He could do this. He’d breeze through the silly commercial and life could go on as normal. 

No problem at all.

 

The screams were high pitched and seemed to never end. He wanted to ask them to stop.

As he moved, he heard something pop. His eyes fell open but he saw nothing, his mouth wide to let out a silent scream, impossible pain tearing through his system. When it subsided a bit and returned in the form of a throbbing ache, he dared to actually look, mind still reeling.

Smoke was all around him and it was hard to inhale without coughing every second. Above him he could make out bright white letters. H, O, L, dangling dangerously from the gray building walls. The rest had been torn off, nothing but wires and sparks left in their wake. Every window around them was completely shattered. It resembled more a ruin than an office.

He moved his head, realizing he couldn’t feel any part below his chest anymore. His hands were on fire but didn’t respond when he wanted them to. His body was almost covered in rock and metal. Even his attempts to cry were thwarted. All he could do was look, helpless, useless, _why_.

There was a man next to him. He was wearing a familiar tweed blazer. His head had a gaping hole in it and Zen wanted to scream, to take away his gaze but he couldn’t, as if he wanted to see it. There was no way to tell if he was still bleeding.

He heard someone call his name.

That deep voice… Jumin?

He forced his head backwards, digging his scalp into the ground. Upside down he saw the silhouette of the heir in question, who was moving closer to him. Zen allowed himself to feel a slight amount of happiness. His friend was fine and moving and _breathing-_

“Zen! I can’t… I can’t see-“ The businessman waved his arm around in front of him. That tiny spark of hope doused itself immediately. As he got closer, crawling past the other body, Zen could see his eyes, pupils unnaturally dilated, not focused on anything. 

“Here! Over he-“ Violent coughs interrupted him, burning his already irritated throat. Damn it!

Following his voice, Jumin slowly dragged himself over to him and only then did Zen see the massive dark stain that followed him.

No. No no no nonononono.

He felt the executive brush and grasp his hand that was lying in the open, clinging to it like it was his last lifeline. His face was pale and blue, his hair wild and his face covered in a thick layer of dust. 

His fingers were freezing. Zen desperately wanted to cover them with his hand but his digits wouldn’t obey him.

“I-it’s so cold…”

Hang on. Please hang on!

He begged and pleaded, his mouth forming the words but not producing sound. He could do nothing but watch as Jumin’s chest slowly sink, falling flat on the ground, felt his hand lose grip and saw his eyes stay wide open.

His own eyes started to close.

He hoped the darkness would swallow him up forever.

 

The harsh white paint of his ceiling did nothing to stop him from wanting to throw up.


	2. Chapter 2

In the morning Driver Kim rang his doorbell, politely telling him that Mr. Han asked to pick him up to avoid being late. Normally Zen would respond by stubbornly taking his motorcycle anyway and telling Jumin McJerkface where he could shove it- (Seriously? Did he really expect Zen to be late?) -but he was so tired, he just grabbed his stuff and took a seat in the car without saying a word. Truth be told, he was grateful that he had the time to recover.

The gentle hum of the car put his mind at ease, brought him into a trance-like state. Now was the perfect time to sort out his thoughts.

It was very rare for him to have recurring dreams. Sometimes he would hear other people gossip about it but he was never able to join the conversation. Recurring dreams meant something, a thing unique to him only.

The first time that it happened, he had been so young. His brother was standing in front of him and he was taking his parents’ side as they tried to force Zen into a career he never wanted. Zen remembered how upset he was every time the dream came back, but his brother was so kind to him that he waved it away.

He had been completely unprepared when the fatal moment actually arrived. He would never forget the pain in his chest that day.

The second time he had a recurring dream, he dreamt that Yoosung was gravely upset, sitting in a chair while he, Jumin and V stood around him. He didn’t understand what they were doing.

It was only after whatever happened to Rika just before Yoosung graduated that he understood. Back then, the dream was so vague that any chastising he did to himself was rationalized easily. What was done was done, he thought. He grieved, hurting like it always did, but he couldn’t have done anything.

But now there was this dream.

He had been almost able to feel everything in that dream, so lifelike it was actually unrealistic. Surreal, like a painting that looked like a photo.

Every single time his recurring dreams had come true. They were always glimpses of the future. There was never a time indication.

They arrived, halting his thoughts, Driver Kim parking the car neatly between the others. He got out of the vehicle and stood in front of a large boring office complex. He noted the logo of the building.

‘HOLISTIC FOR GLORIOUS CATS’

He froze. Those first few white letters. The windows. The walls.

This was the same building in his dream.

His eyes scanned his surroundings frantically. Nothing seemed off. Men and women in suits exited and entered the building, somehow managing to avoid each other with their noses on top of their smartphone or newspapers. Some people were talking outside with their coffee in one hand, cigarette in the other. The occasional pigeon landed on the dirty tiles in the hopes they could scrounge up some human food.

A hand gently touched his shoulder and Driver Kim told him the floor they were expecting him on. 

Right, the commercial. He told himself to get a grip and headed inside. The reception and elevator ride was just one big blur of monochrome colors and cold lights.

Upon arrival, he was greeted with outlandish décor and people all ready to go. Jumin was there too, thanking him for being on time. Zen nodded, not feeling like he was in the right reality. 

The staff of the cat food company started busying themselves around him, dressing him up and applying make-up at the same time, while Jumin excused himself for a meeting. It hurt Zen to see him go but what could he do? Ask him to stay close because of his dreams? He felt himself blush scarlet just thinking of it. Thank goodness for heavy make-up.

The shoot was an absolute disaster. While he looked absolutely amazing, inside he was a mess. He didn’t even protest when they gave him cat ears. With his mind completely unfocused, the lack of sleep and cat items all around, every take was either him being a sneezing fumbling mess or shuffling around like a zombie, finding it hard to say the lines.

And there were like only three lines.

The dark gray walls looked just like smoke.

After an hour of trying, the director yelled in poor Korean that he couldn’t work like this and stalked off. Zen just sat on a chair, rubbing his temples as the rest of the staff hovered around, feeling bad for the handsome model. He wanted to feel guilty, truly he did. But all he could think of whenever someone mentioned the word Holistic were the painful images.

He couldn’t work like this.

Jumin returned, looking very irritated, Jaehee in tow whose face brightened when she saw him. The actor took comfort in the fact that perhaps he was not the only one with a terrible morning.

“Jumin, Jaehee, how was the meeting?” He asked, trying to act casual. Inwardly he cringed. It was a bit too much but the two of them didn’t seem to notice.

“There was no meeting. My client never showed up.” Well, that explained his mood. 

Jaehee nodded in agreement and asked him how the commercial was going. Embarrassed to all hell, Zen told them honestly that the reason everything was going badly was purely because of him. Jaehee was quick to reassure him that everyone had their bad days but it didn’t make Zen feel much better. He was a professional after all.

Jumin’s serious look unnerved him. Hurry up CEO Han, tell him off already! 

The raven-haired man sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

He was so surprised his mouth almost fell open. Even Jaehee was shocked, her glasses nearly falling off.

“You tried to warn me last night. I shouldn’t have pushed you when you weren’t ready. I will ask Assistant Kang-“

Ah, right. Zen couldn’t help but laugh as Jumin showed that sometimes he did genuinely care. Of course he wasn’t always the cold logical jerk, he proved that to him when they both met at Zen’s secret place. Jumin crossed his arms, displeased with the interruption.

Zen brushed his hand through his hair. While this was a nice excuse, Jumin had the wrong idea.

Come on Zen. There was no way he could dismiss it all now. He had to tell them.

He took a deep breath and told them that for the second time in a row he had a very realistic dream where a bomb had gone off in the very building they were in.

 

Zen was starting to regret telling them in the first place because now it was beginning to look like a waste of time. He hated seeing Jaehee’s alarmed face and even Jumin looked a little disturbed as he instantly made a few phone calls. They believed him without hesitation and he wasn’t sure if he was happy to be trusted or unhappy that they trusted his dreams so easily. 

Soon the entire building was crawling with security, combing through the place like ants looking for food. Everyone had been evacuated, a large group of people in suits several meters away from the office. There was a small crowd forming around the plaza from a safe distance, curious eyes and cameras hungry for something exciting.

Outside the weather was not cooperating, clouds hiding any welcome light and warmth. A group of business people were huddled together close to him on the pavement, complaining loudly on how they were missing lunch and they’d better get overtime pay for this. The actor felt so incredibly guilty, zipping his jacket up a bit more. He had changed back quickly, not feeling like wearing some weird fluffy outfit for the rest of the day.

Being the quick thinker she was, Jaehee phoned Seven to ask him to monitor all the CCTV in the building. If anyone could find something suspicious, it would be Luciel. Knowing the hacker was on it put his mind at ease just a little bit. He imagined the redhead typing away furiously behind the mass amount of monitors he owned.

He checked the messenger constantly. Yoosung and MC were constantly switching between assuring Zen for doing the right thing and worrying themselves sick. He had to remind them every few minutes that yes, they were safe and yes, they were still alive. Even Seven was there, using his multitasking skills to calm down the others the best way he could – by bragging about himself and throwing out memes. It didn’t seem to help and Jaehee ended up intervening in the chat.

Jumin stood close to him, still talking on his phone. Zen decided there was no way he was going to let him out of his sight now. Trust Fund insisted on helping scan the office building but with heavy protests from him and on advice of security, he waited with the rest of them. Zen did his best not to show how happy it made him to see him outside the building.

“Seven says any details you might have for him would help.” Jumin turned to him, seemingly unaffected by the weather, setting his phone to speaker mode and holding it up to him. Zen found himself staring at his hand and looked away.

Details? He thought long and hard. He was always lying flat on the ground so he didn’t exactly have a good vantage point. Paper bits. The logo. Smoke. The windows. Concrete. Another man. 

Wait.

“Oh! That guy you talked to at the party – he was there too. He was close to u-, ahem, me.”

Jumin raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Seomun?”

Right, that was his name.

“He was supposed to meet me this morning but never showed up.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes. You convinced me that I needed to give him another chance, so I did.”

Something warm bloomed inside Zen’s chest. Jumin had actually taken his advice to heart. He forced himself not to smile.

“Seven, did you get all that?”

Seven’s voice echoed through the speaker. “I did! I’ll see if I can locate him via phone GPS!”

Jumin nodded at him, as if he was a child who had given the right answer. There was no way to stop his smile now.

Of course, Zen thought. It had to be him. After all, crimes of passion were most common and that man really seemed to hate Jumin. They’d catch him and everything would be alright.

Zen’s common sense told him that his reasoning wasn’t completely sound. Plenty of people in the business must hate Jumin surely. Mentally he waved it away.

Jumin asked him if there was anything else. Zen promised he’d tell him if there was anything else noteworthy he’d say it. Truthfully, he didn’t want to get into too much details. There were some things he didn’t want to say out loud, let alone to Jumin. Things were already embarrassing enough as is.

Though perhaps it was because he couldn’t deal with the pain in his heart when he recalled it.

The tinny voice from the speaker returned.

“I found him but he’s nowhere near where you guys are right now. From his GPS history he hasn’t been near Holistic at all. I’ll keep my eye on him but I don’t think it’s him. Sorry Zen.”

Shit.

Zen was seriously considering offering to do the cat commercial for free.

 

Someone was holding his hand. Warm. Soft. It felt really nice.

He opened his eyes, inhaling deep. Immediately he coughed, chest heaving as his lungs did their best to get all the smoke out. The other hand held his tightly, giving him something to hold on to. Tears streaked down Zen’s face from the effort. He felt unbearably warm, as he was in a furnace.

When his body finally stopped and his lungs tried not to violently expel any air he breathed in, he turned his gaze. Jumin was close to him, his face gray as if someone was using a camera filter. Sweat rolled past his forehead down into his collar. The smoke was covering them like a blanket. 

Sparks flew past him. It was only then Zen realized something was on fire. The heat was close, too close and on instinct he withdrew his legs towards his chest. 

There was nothing on top of his legs. He was free to move. The feeling was exhilarating.

He took the opportunity to turn his body but found he was still sluggish, the fire and smoke slowing him down considerably. It was fine. As long as he could move, it was fine.

He looked to Jumin who hadn’t let go. 

“J-Jumin… We have to go…” Raspy, like a chain smoker. He would never touch another cigarette.

The older man’s hand shook a little in his. It took Zen a few seconds to realize that Jumin was trying to laugh, failing miserably. He moved himself a bit closer, bending his arm to keep his hand in Jumin’s. As he crawled a few centimeters, keeping himself low to avoid most of the suffocating fog, he saw Jumin’s other hand holding his stomach, completely covered in dark, sticky blood.

It was obvious to the both of them. 

Jumin wasn’t going anywhere.

Zen started crying, waterworks burning as they followed the path of his previous tears. He felt Jumin’s thumb caress his hand as the man made soothing sounds, trying to comfort him. His tears streamed faster.

Why? Why was he like this, even now?

“It’s alright… It’s alright…”

No. No it’s not. Their faces were so close. He wanted to yell at Jumin for even saying positive things, wanted to slap the small smile off his face as Jumin looked at him like he was everything. Zen had always wanted someone to look at him that way, but not like this. Not here.

“You should… go…”

Zen’s heart constricted and he clenched his hand tighter. Jumin wobbled a bit and the actor used his other hand to hold his head. The corporate heir leaned into his touch. 

His self-preservation instinct told him to go but he overruled it. He wasn’t going anywhere, not without Jumin. He didn’t care if it was stupid. He couldn’t even imagine himself leaving.

Jumin wouldn’t stop looking at him, still smiling. Those dark eyes were losing focus. 

“Ha… Always wanted to tell you… I…” 

Jumin’s voice trailed off, too low for him to understand.

Tell him what? What did Jumin want to tell him that he couldn’t before? 

Did the rational, logical businessman, like him, have emotional thoughts that he found hard to say?

Zen tried to speak but there was only pain, his body absolutely refusing to let him use his vocal chords. He had lost control over his voice again. Tears now completely blurred his eyes, robbing him of proper sight as well. All his senses abandoned him. He could only feel.

Zen had so many regrets. He wished he had taken the time to tell him. How despite all he had said and done, Jumin really was a good person. Beyond the endless irritations that the man gave him, he genuinely respected him. Only Jumin was able to stir up so many emotions inside him whenever they talked. He never felt the need to act differently around him.

He would never regret joining the RFA, never regret getting to know him and never regret becoming his friend. 

And now Jumin would never know how he felt.

Why couldn’t life have given them more time? It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t _**fair**_. 

Once again he felt Jumin’s hand go slack, was privy to the knowledge that he was being embraced by death. Icy cold, even near the blazing fire, and unforgiving. Their hands were still intertwined. If it were up to him, he would never let go.

He cursed every God he knew in existence as the dark took him as well, hearing his name being called.

 

_”Zen!”_

“Zen!”

Startled, Zen opened his eyes and quickly closed them again, the blinding white light from the clouded sky unforgiving. He pushed himself up from the stone bench and staggered, causing Jaehee to grab a hold of his arm.

They were still outside. He felt his jacket slide down behind his back, propped up to form a make-shift pillow.

Shit. He had been so tired. Resting his head for a bit seemed like a good idea. He didn’t realize he would actually fall asleep. Jaehee released her vice hold on him, all the concern of the world on her face for the idol. His eyes stung and he rubbed them violently, knowing they’d become bloodshot.

In his head he swore, loud and violently.

He felt like a plaything of forces more powerful than him. He wouldn't let them win.


	3. Chapter 3

The plaza was nearly void of any activity. Most people had given up on the idea of returning to work and left. The peeping vultures were also gone, their attention spans too short. Most of the sounds came from a few streets further where shops and bistros went on with their business.

“Would you like me to get you some coffee?” Jaehee asked gently. He must come over as exhausted as he was. Zen nodded, deeply appreciating how she cared for him but finding it hard to say the words. He watched as the assistant headed into the nearest café.

It was only then Zen noticed MC approaching them, running from the bus stop across the road. She greeted him and he waved at her, not having much stamina for anything else.

“Yoosung and I were so worried, we agreed that I would check on you guys while he would help out Seven.” That brought a small smile on Zen’s face. They were so kind, what had he done to deserve such thoughtful friends?

He checked the time on his phone. 4 PM. That meant there had to be a long line at the café right now with everyone trying to wake themselves up for the last hour of work. Zen sighed. It wasn’t as if Jaehee had anything better to do, thanks to him.

“Jaehee went to get some coffee. You should join her, it’ll be nice for her to talk to someone while waiting.” He pointed out which store she had walked into.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded and MC thankfully got the hint.

He wouldn’t have been able to deal with small talk now. He needed some time for himself, sleep and sadness still wracking his brain. There was nothing to look at, not even a few pigeons to entertain him. He ended up staring at Jumin who was talking to two police officers, phone still near his ear, probably communicating with Luciel.

Suddenly he saw a security guard run out of the office’s basement, looking as white a ghost. He ran over to Jumin and the police officers, making excited hand movements. Zen instantly sat up straight, receiving a small adrenaline boost, mind empty of any other thought. He strained his ears in the hope to pick up what they were saying but they were too far away.

Soon enough Jumin turned to walk to him, eyes directed up indicating he was in deep thought while he spoke into the phone. He watched the heir stop for a second, looked directly at Zen, their eyes connecting. He couldn’t breathe for a moment. Jumin continued walking, putting his phone away as his face showed something he couldn’t quite discern. Concern, perhaps?

Zen got up when he arrived at the bench, not bothering to mask how worried he was. The executive readjusted his tie.

“You were correct.”

He never thought that hearing those words would fill him with a strange mix of dread and relief.

“There’s… a bomb?” Would it be less true if he whispered the words?

Jumin nodded, still frowning.

“Seven confirmed it just before security did. Someone carrying a black backpack entered the parking lot just before we evacuated everyone.”

“So… they found them? That’s a good thing, right?” Zen didn’t understand Jumin’s expression… or hesitation. Send the bomb squad in! Or whatever they were called. They could get rid of it and this would just be another story he could tell at the RFA parties to impress women.

But Jumin looked so grave and behind him he saw police on walkie-talkies, one of them running like the devil was chasing him. Something wasn’t right. He resisted the urge to clench his clammy hands and pushed them flat against his jeans.

“The police told me it’s a young man with a detonator. They’ve been talking to him but they told me that unless I go over to talk to him, he will set it off.”

With every word Jumin spoke, Zen’s eyes widened. 

No. No. 

“NO!!” His sudden outburst scared Jumin but he didn’t care. Jumin couldn’t go, he wasn’t allowed to!

“You’re not going. I won’t let you.” He hissed, grabbing his arms so that he couldn’t leave. 

In his mind he was screaming. The dream was going to come true, wasn’t it? Just like with Rika, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what he tried. The future was set in stone and the bomb was going to go off and _Jumin was going to **die**_ -

Jumin made the space between smaller by taking a step, putting his hands on Zen’s trembling shoulders. Zen had trouble to keep looking into his eyes. They were so concerned, he had never seen him look like that.

“What is it that you’re not telling me?” Gentle, low, like addressing a wild animal.

He couldn’t help it, he had to look away from him. Jumin’s hands squeezed his shoulders gently and they were warm. 

God, they were warm now.

“You were there too… In my dream. It always starts with me lying on the street and you’re there, close to me.”

For some reason he thought Jumin would make fun of him. _”You were dreaming of me?”_ He imagined him say. But the dark-haired man didn’t say a word, his focus purely on the albino. 

Zen’s breathing sped up, it was so hard not to hyperventilate.

“It’s not always the same. The dreams… Sometimes I can’t move, sometimes it’s hard to see. But you’re always there. You’re badly hurt. And I… I can’t do anything. I can’t stop you from… From…”

He couldn’t say it. The word itself had power over him and it hurt so much.

He didn’t mean to cry. He was just so exhausted, physically and mentally, that he couldn’t stop himself. He closed his eyes, pushing out more tears and felt Jumin wrap himself around Zen, holding him tight.

His hands shook, clutching the fabric of Jumin’s suit jacket.

“You’re not allowed to die.” Zen was trembling, even in his warm arms.

“I’m sorry.” Jumin whispered. As if he could do something about it. As if an apology would make everything okay. Zen let out a hollow laugh, felt nothing but anguish.

More words didn’t need to be said. If Jumin didn’t go, the bomb would go off and kill a good amount of police officers who were now risking their lives for them. There’s was no way the executive would allow that to happen. Selfish as he was, Zen knew he’d be alright with sacrificing strangers to save him. He would never say it out loud.

Carefully, they released each other, knowing there was no way they could stretch this. 

He watched Jumin go towards the police officer who was waiting for him. Jumin cast a glance towards him, looking at only him with an emotion he didn’t quite understand, before he disappeared from sight with his escort.

He was so useless. All he could do was cry and watch how the man he wanted to save walked off to his death.

He felt so empty inside.

“Zen, what’s wrong? Where is Jumin?” Jaehee and MC returned, carrying a tray of takeaway coffee, instantly noticing his demeanor.

Zen pointed towards the entrance of the parking garage that Jumin had walked into, explaining the unfair burden that was placed on the executive. MC screamed and dropped all the coffee on the ground. Jaehee held her hands over her mouth. Zen couldn’t bring himself to comfort the two of them.

 

The minutes passed by like hours. The police were setting up barricades. Everyone in the nearby had also been evacuated, leaving this part of the city a barren wasteland. His phone was vibrating every second, the rest of the RFA panic messaging each other. MC was crying while typing away on her smartphone on a bench while Jaehee sat next to her, hand around her shoulders while looking extremely distressed herself.

He just stood in silence, as close to the building as the police would let him, staring at the parking garage’s exit. Maybe if he willed it hard enough, he could make Jumin walk out completely unharmed. His nails were digging in his arm painfully.

In the corner of his eye he noticed a short man walking close, pacing near him. He looked as nervous as Zen felt, sweat making him look shiny, biting his nails and clutching his brown jacket.

Wait a minute. That was Mr. Seomun.

“Hey… You’re Zen, aren’t you? The actor?”

Zen nodded, wondering what he wanted. A fan? This couldn’t have been a worse time.

“My son is a big fan of yours… Has all your musicals.”

Where was he going with this? He didn’t want to deal with him right now, better tell him off so he can g-

“The man inside… I-It’s my son.”

Time stopped.

Lightning fast, Zen grabbed the man’s sleeve. He stared at him frightened but Zen didn’t care that he looked like a fury right now.

“I knew it! You did have something to do with all this!!” He shook the man, anger drowning out any logic. 

He just looked at Zen in shame.

Damn him. Damn him for this all! Damn him for even existing!!

“He went missing this morning and I couldn’t find him. The police called me when… God, this is my fault. He loved the company as much as I did. I blamed C&R for everything and he took it too hard. He’s always been clever with electronics. But I didn’t think... I should have paid more attention.”

The man was sincere when he spoke, wiping his face multiple times as if he could wipe away the guilt. Zen looked the building and then turned back to him, considering his options as rage steeled him.

“Your son listens to you? He wouldn’t let the bomb go off if you asked him to, right?”

“I-I suppose so yes. He always said he looked up to me.”

So be it. He dragged the man over to the police officers near the barricade and explained who they were and why it was important for this man to go inside. The officers were naturally hesitant but it was clear that the father was unmissable. 

Two of them appeared to escort Mr. Seomun into the underground parking lot. After a few minutes, the police and security that had collected near them returned to their original positions.

While most of them had their back turned on him, he grabbed his chance. He ran inside, following Mr. Seomun and ignoring the loud calls of his name from friends and strangers alike. The air rushed past him as if he was riding his motorcycle, his boots echoing into the tunnel. He was in the best shape a man like him could be, there was no way others would reach him in time.

He was done sitting on the sidelines. Fuck his dreams. Fuck the future. He was going to fight fate for as long as he could. 

 

When he arrived at the scene, he saw Jumin there alongside many other officers and security with their guns out. They didn’t know he was there yet. He moved himself behind a large white column next to a large SUV. 

No one had followed him. Good.

His phone vibrated violently and he ignored it. There was no doubt in his mind that Seven was trying to call him, only he would be able to call him and make it so his phone didn’t make a sound without the silent option on. Was there CCTV in the garage? He couldn’t find any cameras.

Zen could hear everything clearly with the way voices echoed in the garage, Jumin’s deep and steady voice attempting to rationalize.

The boy in the center of it all looked like the spitting image of Mr. Seomun, only a lot younger. He was even wearing the same coat. In his right hand he could see something square and dark, like a remote control. He was so angry, whatever Jumin had been telling him clearly hadn’t helped. When Mr. Seomun got close to him, the boy’s expression shifted to absolute shock.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” 

Zen stifled against the column, trying to make himself as small as possible. For a moment he feared he was talking to him. Mr. Seomun’s voice confirmed otherwise.

“Son… Please. There’s no need for all of this.”

He risked taking a look. They didn’t see him.

“Stop it! We’re suffering because of him!” The guy sniffled, jabbing his finger in Jumin’s direction. 

“No! I was the one who made errors in the bookkeeping! Mr. Han has been nothing but gracious to us, he even invited me back!”

“It’s true. I asked Mr. Seomun to meet me this morning. We were going to discuss start-up options for your company. C&R still believes you have potential.” Jumin’s deep voice was so steady in between the emotions of the others. His hands were on his tie, adjusting it just a little, betraying that he was nervous.

“YOU’RE LYING!” The boy held up the remote. The police all took a small step back.

He had to interfere now. Like on stage, his cue, he was ready. He stepped away from the column.

“He’s not lying.” Zen’s voice made everyone turn to gaze at him. He ignored Jumin’s alarmed face, his hands now clutching his tie, ruining his pristine look. 

Sorry Jumin. It’s my turn to help you now.

“Z-Zen?”

The boy’s face went from anger to surprise, almost happy even. Good, this was good. Zen put up his friendliest smile, giving the boy a wave. The kid was starstruck.

“Listen, your father is right when he says C&R wanted to give him another chance. They did the same for me when my fellow actress unleashed a scathing rumor about me. I know it’s hard to believe that a cold corporate company would do that. I still barely believe it.” He made sure to chuckle, using his acting skills to make this seem like a casual conversation between him and a fan. A fan with the power to murder them all.

It seemed to be working. The kid looked like he felt guilty, had lowered the remote so he could hold his arm in his hand in a shy stance.

Mr. Seomun approached him, arms open wide, face soft and warm and welcoming.

“Son… It’s alright. Let’s end it here. This mess will get sorted out and before you know it, everything will be just as it was.”

The boy looked deflated and dropped the remote on the floor with a loud clang. Mr. Seomun took him in his arms. The police quickly swooped in to grab the remote and handcuffed the young man, allowing Mr. Seomun to keep hugging him.

He did it. They were safe. It was over. 

Zen was elated. He had expected this to be much harder. He looked at Jumin and grinned. The executive looked ready to give him the biggest scolding of his life. His grin got even wider.

“I’m sorry…” Mr. Seomun shushed his son and told him everything was forgiven. But his son shook his head.

“You don’t understand. The remote is a dud. It’s on a timer. I already started it. It will go off in 30 seconds.”

What?

Shit?!

No?!!!

Everyone’s faces shared the same exact thought. As the officers cast a quick glance to each other, one of them ordered for everyone to run.

“Drop everything! Out! NOW!”

Jumin grabbed Zen’s arm and they ran as fast as their feet would carry them. Zen looked back and saw how Mr. Seomun stayed where he was, holding his son tight. The officers quickly gave up on convincing them to come along and ran right behind them.

Everyone ran like hell. The tunnel sounded like horses were racing through it. His entire being was in pure flight mode.

Zen was counting in his head as he sprinted for his life. Just ten seconds left.

10, 9…

The exit was so close, he could see the barricades. They were almost there.

8, 7… 

He watched Jumin lag a bit behind him, his body not as fit as Zen’s.

6, 5…

They approached the street but Zen knew from his dreams that they were still too close. 

4, 3…

He had done everything he could. Everything and he was still going to lose him.

2…

No more time. It was over.

1…

Fuck it.

In a last-ditch effort, he flung Jumin in front of him on the street and fell on top of him.

 

He heard sirens of police cars and ambulances. Heard loud voices doing their best to yell over the noise. Smelled the black smoke that he had gotten used to. His head was ringing. The back of his head was on the asphalt.

Ah, he must have fallen asleep again. He had been pretty tired after all. His dreams just wouldn’t leave him alone.

At least this time he was aware of it.

It was actually becoming a boring sight, the wrecked office building and the rain of ash. Sometimes he wished his brain could throw in a little more imagination, maybe act like he was having a regular, bizarre dream instead of this. It would be a nice change.

There was a dull painful throbbing in his waist and there was the strong scent of metal. Zen didn’t even bother to check, he was sure he was bleeding out. He wasn’t interested in seeing how much his dream had mangled him this time. For once his lungs weren’t burning, he just had to endure the disgusting smoke-filled air, keep it out of his throat.

He couldn’t find Jumin though. He looked around, trying to find his dark-eyed friend. 

Maybe his dream was for once being kind to him. 

Footsteps approached him rapidly and soon he was surrounded by people in white uniforms. They talked to him and were touching his body but he didn’t really register what they were saying, didn’t feel the need to focus.

His eyes blurred a bit. Was the dream almost done?

The blurry faces were telling him to stay awake, try to stay awake- sir! They sounded so panicky. If they had been real, he would have wanted to comfort them.

His eyes slowly closed, vision turning completely dark. 

It was alright. He would wake up any time now. 

 

 

 

_“Zen…”_

 

 

 

_”Hyun, come back to me. Please…_

_Come back...”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

_W̤̫̪̿h̞̘͍̺̬͚͈̋e̜͔̘̰̻̻ͫ̈́r͍̦͕ͨͥͭ̊͋͟ẻ̵͕̣͍̉̑̒̅̌̋ͭ ̧̝̭̞̌͊̉ͮ̅ͧ̉ͅḍͣ̄ͭ̈ͯ̌ͦo̫̭̦̜͚̻͌̓̈ͬ͠͞ ͬ̀̅̿̓̈̑҉̶͖͈̞̟̲̺͍͘y̷͇͙͂ͫ͂o͍̺ͦ͊͝͡ű̵̢̮͎̩̹̥͔ͣ͐̃͐̈ͦ ̵͉̭̜̩̼ͦ͆ͮͥ̓͆͛t̎͊̉̍̈҉̹̼͔h̳̗͊̌̇͞ĩ͍͕̲͙͈͈̈ͬ̃ͤn̴̡̥̪̭̿͛͆̐͂̅ͣk̩̼̠͔͕ͨ͂͒ͤ̏ͦ́ ̷̼̙ͤ̉y̶̜͇̯͚̖͛̿͌̀͊̏͞ȯ͉͓̜͓̭̻͉̐͡u̷̦̗̥̼̣͈̭̲͂͝'̢̼̲ͭ̂͠r̟̟̤̦ͦͤͫ̔͞ͅe̡̛͓̟̞̹̫͇͒̃͢ͅ ̷ͨ͊͗̈̒̈ͣ͏͓̞̩͚͈̥̜̞̹ǧ̵̞̖̓̍̐̄̃̉͐̕ͅo͉̎̆͂͋ͧͦ̀̿̀͢i̵̥͚̖̹̪ͪ̃̽ͯ̾̅͢͢n̥̳̣̯͙̜̠͐ͪ̉͋̊͑g̼̳̤̟̫̽̒̇?̠̦͉͕ͥͨ́̓͜͢  
_


	4. Chapter 4

The sky was gorgeous. A solid blue hue all around, not a single cloud in sight. It was so serene, so peaceful. He held up his hand, wanting to hold it in the warm sunlight. But the light was a bright white on his pale skin, unnatural.

He blinked a few times. Wait. This wasn’t a sky at all. It was a ceiling… But it wasn’t his own ceiling.

Where was he?

Zen looked around, finding he had no problems turning his body in any way he wanted to. It was obvious he was lying in some sort of ugly hospital bed. On his right he saw a tinted window. He couldn’t see his own reflection in it though, damn.

He felt strange. Drowsy but he did just wake up after all. He felt like something was empty inside of him, something missing. Maybe he hadn’t eaten yet. What time was it?

There was no one and nothing else in the room. The walls and floor were plain and boring, white and blue squares all around. There were no machines either, not even an IV catheter or a heart rate monitor, things that were a common sight in hospitals. He should know thanks to his motorcycle accident. There wasn’t even a clock. All he had for company were two plastic chairs facing his bed diagonally.

It was eerily quiet. He didn’t like it at all.

He checked his body. Was he… wearing a suit? This was no ordinary hospital attire. Where was his stupid-looking smock? He ran his hands across his entire body, felt underneath his jacket and opened his pants. Not a scratch. Even his hair was pristine. Physically he did feel alright.

If this was a hospital, why was he here?

The tinted window. Usually one side could look through it and the other side couldn’t. Zen tried and tried but saw nothing. Did that mean everyone could see him? Were they watching him right now? A shiver ran up his spine.

Where was everyone? Maybe he should call a nurse. He looked around, felt above and under his bed looking for the bell. Nothing. He didn’t even have his phone.

Now he was getting scared.

He considered getting up to leave when the door of his room opened slightly, a pair of eyes peeking in. When he peered at them, the unknown face looked shocked and closed the door quickly. 

What in the world?

There were two voices outside of his room. It was impossible to make out what they were saying but it didn’t sound like a casual conversation. He wasn’t sure if he should wait it out.

The door opened again after a few minutes and this time, someone came in.

It was Jumin. 

Zen didn’t know why but his heart burst with joy when he saw him. By the looks of things, he couldn’t say the same of Jumin.

His hair was all over the place and he had large bags under his eyes. He wasn’t wearing his trademark vest and jacket. Even his tie was missing, exposing a bit of pale collarbone. He looked like he had aged rapidly.

Trust Fund grabbed one of the chairs and took a seat next to him. His face was so grim. He reeked of wine and something he couldn’t recognize. Zen’s nose scrunched up and he resisted the urge to hold his hand in front of his nose. Jumin was holding some sort of clipboard. He noted Jumin’s hand had a large bandage around it. Since when did Jumin take such poor care of himself?

“Man, you stink.”

“Sorry.”

That’s it, just sorry? No smartass retort or witty comeback? What was going on?

“Zen. How are you feeling?”

“Good. Exhausted. I feel… really good.” It wasn’t like him to have a hard time coming up with words. 

“Good. That’s good.” Jumin was repeating him?

Something was really off.

“Jumin? What’s going on?”

Jumin wasn’t looking at him, instead opting to stare at some random spot on his bed. It unnerved the crap out of Zen.

“Zen. Do you… remember what happened?”

He did his best to recall what happened before he woke up. All he could remember was this long, horrible dream he had where he sucked ass in a TV commercial surrounded by cat items, cried in front of Jumin and some kid wanted to blow himself up. Talk about an embarrassing nightmare.

He joked about it but Jumin’s face changed, hurt clearly visible, still not looking at Zen, and he halted in the middle of his sentence. He fiddled with the blanket lying next to him, feeling it scratch the surface of his palm, staring at its patchy texture.

It wasn’t a nightmare. That all really happened.

He must have gotten injured then. His monster body simply healed superfast like it always did. But that didn’t explain his clothes.

The memory of a short bald man floated by. He had just been standing there in the dark parking lot, accepting his fate. He could’ve made it, had he left his son behind. Zen felt a painful twinge in his gut. He understood him well.

“Hey… What happened to Mr. Seomun and his son?” He didn’t know why he asked the question.

“They boy didn’t want to leave. They both died in the explosion. Together with four officers. Thanks to you, no more than that.”

Thanks to him? All he had done was try to talk the boy out of setting off the bomb, but in the end it didn’t matter. Foolish… Unnecessary. It was nothing more than misplaced rage that cost the life of these people. How could he feel grateful that only six people died?

He looked back at Jumin, who was still staring into the abyss. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He clutched his blanket tight with both hands, pushing it down on his lap.

“Jumin, I beg of you. Tell me what’s going on. I’m seriously freaking out. Is this a hospital? Why am I wearing a suit? Why are you the only one I’ve seen since I woke up?”

_And why won’t you look at me?_

Silence. 

He was going to scream, he swore to God-

“Zen. You died.”

The heir was now looking straight into his eyes. This was a joke. He wasn’t joking. Jumin didn’t joke about this. Jumin looked nowhere near like he was joking.

“Jumin. You’re properly shitting me now, right?”

Jumin moved closer to him, the plastic chair scraping over the floor. He put his unbandaged hand on the handle of the bed. His gaze stayed on his, refusing to sever the connection. The edges of Jumin’s eyes were bright red.

“I am not shitting you right now. You were dead. The surgeon confirmed it. The doctor confirmed it. The coroner confirmed it. The mortician ran out of her practice screaming when she noticed you were breathing and all your wounds were gone.”

Dead. He had been dead. 

No way. No way no way nowaynowaynoway.

“For… How long?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t really kept track of time… I’m guessing 6, 7 days.”

Zen’s jaw fell right open. A week? Impossible!

“But… how??”

Jumin’s brow furrowed as he scanned the clipboard. He must have taken that from whatever doctor had treated Zen. “I don’t know. The doctors did many tests. Absolutely nothing. According to them, you’re a healthy young man, in top shape.”

He didn’t know what to say. He ran his hands along the fabric of his white tuxedo. They were going to bury him in this. A death suit. 

Quickly he started removing it piece by piece, tossing them on the floor and wishing he could burn them. Jumin didn’t make a move to stop him.

“Assistant Kang and I have been talking to the director of the hospital and the National Intelligence Service. Everyone that knows of your… passing will receive a large bonus, for their silence.”

When Jumin finished talking, Zen was left with a simple white dress shirt and his underwear, staring at the offending pieces of clothing on white tiles. Bribery. He hated it but… What choice did he have? If this became public news, forget his career, everyone around him would be affected. The entire RFA would suffer.

God, the RFA… Everyone must have been devastated. He swore he had seen Jaehee crying for hours on end, not sure how to bring the news to other fans. MC wasn’t better off, full of regrets and sorrow. Seven punished himself endlessly for not protecting him better. And poor Yoosung, he didn’t need to feel even more useless.

He had to apologize to each and every single one of them. He just had to.

“The others… How are they?”

“They’re alright. I already updated everyone via the messenger. They… apologize for not being able to visit.”

They were scared. He didn’t have to ask. He just knew. He wanted to go, wanted to prove to them that he was still the same person, still the same Zen.

He didn’t know if he wanted to prove it to them or to himself.

“When am I allowed to leave?”

“I don’t know. They want to run more tests. Not today though, they allowed me to take as much time as we needed.”

Zen felt dizzy and it was a good thing he was lying on a bed so he couldn’t fall. Stuck in this barren place until the doctors were satisfied with whatever they were looking for. Stuck while the world thought he was dead, while his friends saw him as something terrifying. And scary government officials were making files on him right this minute. 

What a nightmare. He didn’t want this.

But he had wanted this. He had asked for it. The part of him that he gave as payment was sufficient.

_What?_

He didn’t even know what he was thinking anymore. His mind wasn’t making any sense. Time to change the subject, something to distract him before he went completely mad.

“So… Holistic Headquarters is completely gone?” He imagined Jumin must have been pretty pissed about that. At least buildings could be rebuilt.

The executive didn’t seem too upset about it, giving him a small smile. “Partly, yes. The cat commercial has been postponed indefinitely. I suppose this should please you, you’ll have more time to focus on your upcoming musical.”

Zen snorted. Now Jumin was definitely kidding him. “Nice try Jumin, but you know I can’t sing to save my life.” As if he would ever star in a musical.

He watched Jumin’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open a little.

“Wha- What are you talking about? Zen, you are a fantastic singer.” Was Jumin trying to make him feel better? Really, he didn’t have to.

“Jumin… I don’t know what happened to your memory in the explosion, but the last time I auditioned for a musical, the director threatened to have me shot. It sucked having to give up my lifelong dream but at least I can act so it’s not the end of the world.” He shrugged, not sure why this was a big deal. It stung like hell back then but he had gotten over it. Jumin just gaped at him.

Maybe the doctors should give Jumin a physical instead. He did look awful, after all. Was that stubble he noticed?

“You must be misremembering. Not surprising, seeing what happened to you. Look, just sing something. It’ll prove I’m right.”

Seriously? Zen protested but the stubborn executive kept insisting and he was just a bit too tired to fight. Fine then.

It was awkward to sing just like that. He settled on singing something simple as a nursery rhyme, and though in his head the notes sounded perfect, he knew he was terribly off-key when Jumin visibly leaned away from him, his face displaying pure horror.

Zen’s singing turned into laughter.

“You should see your face!”

Jumin tore his gaze away from him, still shell-shocked, grabbed a pen from his shirt pocket and scribbled something down hastily on that clipboard of his.

“I would like to check this, preferably with the medical team. If that’s fine with you.”

Sure. If it made Jumin happy to embarrass himself again, he’d do it. 

At least the atmosphere felt lighter than before.

He made a mental note to check if he still had any theatre spots lined up. All he had was that cat commercial which he reluctantly accepted and even that became a bust. It wasn’t like him to ask Jumin for more commercial opportunities but what little choice did he have? An idea bubbled up and he found himself fascinated by it.

“Hey Jumin, I just thought… What if I can’t die? Maybe I’m some kind of creepy undead being.” 

Jumin snorted, tossing the clipboard and pen on the other chair.

“Don’t be ridiculous Zen, there’s nothing terrifying about you.” The heir crossed his legs and folded his arms. Finally, there was that business personality that riled him up so easily, shining through. 

Zen let the insult slide, for now. “No no, you don’t get it. It would open a world of possibilities!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I could star in an action commercial for C&R! If anything happened, no lawsuit because not a scratch, right?”

“Zen…”

“Handsome actor does all stunts by himself, doesn’t need safety gear! How does he do it?” Zen laughed and waved his hands around, already imagining the news headlines on television.

“This isn’t funny Zen.” Something dangerous flashed in Jumin’s eyes but Zen was too busy riding his high, his brain starved for anything happy.

“Think of all the dangerous stunts I could do! Think of all the stuntmen you could save money on! All the explosions I could stand in front o-”

**“Stop it!”**

Jumin’s chair fell to the ground with a loud clang as the executive rushed to stand up, towering over Zen, dark and furious. The smell of wine permeated the air around them again. Instantly Zen retreated his hands to chest, balled up as if to fight.

“How dare you act like you dying is a joke!”

Shit. Jumin was trembling all over. For the first time ever, Zen was terrified of him.

“Do you know how I felt when I crawled out from underneath you, only to see you bleeding, not responding? You have the gall to demand of me not to die but then throw your own life away?!”

He was crying, tears staining the front of his shirt. His anger dissipated, leaving nothing but pure, raw sadness. Jumin’s hands were now both holding the railing of the bed, shaking as he tried to keep himself together.

Zen couldn’t remember. He tried to connect Jumin’s words to any memory he could think of but there was nothing.

“When they told me you were dead… I just- I couldn’t-! I couldn’t even tell Seven and Yoosung, MC had to do it for me... I just ran home like a coward, locked myself up. I begged and pleaded to anyone, anything that could hear me to bring you back-”

Jumin on the floor of his penthouse. Jumin with a bottle of red wine on his mouth, spilling so much on his shirt it looked like blood. Jumin throwing the bottle in a rage and shards flying from the ground, cutting his hand badly. Jumin asking God to take him too. Jumin yelling at the maids and even at his dad. Jumin passing out in the living room, in the hallway, in his bedroom. 

These were memories that he shouldn’t have.

Zen felt his own eyes well up, blinking rapidly to hold back tears, clutching his own shirt.

“When they called me, I thought it was some awful joke. I threatened to have everyone fired. When I saw you lying on the bed this morning, I wanted to wake you but I was so scared that if I touched you, I would find out that I was dreaming.”

Jumin let go of the bed to put his hands in his black hair, looking completely and utterly destroyed. Zen’s chest felt tight, so tight he could feel his heart beating against his ribcage. He didn’t understand, but it was his fault Jumin was this way.

He didn’t want him to feel like this.

“Jumin, I’m sorry, I didn’t think… I’m an idiot. You know I am. I’m really sorry. Please, Jumin-”

He reached out to touch Jumin’s arm and the corporate heir looked back at him, eyes properly bloodshot, tears still flowing freely. Those dark eyes had the same emotion as Zen had seen before. When he walked away from Zen, in a time that he couldn’t recall. It was a longing, so deep and powerful that Zen felt himself getting lost in them.

Jumin bent over the bed, wrapping his arms around him, nearly suffocating the white-haired man as he held him tight, pushing Zen’s face against his collarbone.

“I’m so scared… I’m so scared that this isn’t real… I don’t want to wake up again to- to find that you’re…”

He knew exactly what Jumin was talking about. He had no idea how or why but he knew exactly what Jumin was feeling. Trying his best not to break down himself, his arms just held Jumin’s waist as the older man shook and sobbed for a few minutes.

“I’m so glad you’re alive…” A whisper, more powerful than a storm. 

“I’m happy you’re alive too, Jumin." _More than you can ever imagine._

The heir let go of him, slowly backing up until they stared at each other again. Jumin’s face was close, so very close that it became a blur. All he could see what those dark eyes of his, teeming with emotion. Wet. Warm. Powerful. And something just felt… right.

“Jumin…” He whispered, leaning forward, their noses brushing.

Zen felt the matrass dip as Jumin pushed one of his arms down on it for balance. Felt his other hand slide along his face. Warm, chapped lips were on his own, pressing against him with a need, a desperation, a hunger he had never felt before. Zen felt his entire body tingle, tiny sparks shooting through his veins, setting him on fire. He felt the wetness of Jumin’s tears on his own cheeks. The moisture made his dry skin burn. He wanted more.

Those lips were gone too fast. When Zen calmed down, Jumin was afraid to look at him. Shame. Regret. Sadness. Fear. It was written all over his face, his posture, everything.

“That-that was inappropriate, I’m sorry, I-“ 

He was clearly trying to slip back into his professional persona again but was failing terribly. He looked so tormented. Zen’s heart ached all over again. 

_You don’t have feelings for me, do you?_

The actor launched himself off the bed to grab Jumin’s wrist, stopping Jumin from walking away.

“Jumin. It’s alright.” He hoped with his entire heart and soul that Jumin saw he meant it.

At the moment it was as if Jumin had been replaced with someone entirely different. He looked so miserable, not a shred of that stoic, logical man with more wit than Zen could handle. When that bomb went off, they didn’t just lose a building and many lives – they lost themselves too.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

Jumin removed himself from his grip and turned around, wiping his face. He set his chair back up and sat down, staring at his shoes, trying to keep himself small, non-threatening. Zen traced his lips with his fingertips, tasting the faint hint of red wine. He pictured Jumin with that damn bottle of his again.

“This isn’t the first time I went that far to see you.” But this time, he had gone very, very far.

Jumin looked up at him in confusion. “Aren’t those… my words?”

“Yeah, you were the first one to say it.”

“I don’t understand.”

_Me neither._

Zen sat up on the bed, dangling his legs over the edge avoiding the railing and reached for his bandaged hand, pulling it up towards him. He let his fingers slide down from the gauze to the edge of his palm and felt Jumin intertwine with him. It was the first time he did this but for some reason, Zen was completely used to it.

No words needed to be said. His heart was still beating fast. His face was still blazing. He knew Jumin could feel it.

For the first time today – no, in a long while – he saw something positive in Jumin’s eyes. Happiness. Hope. A brightness that he’d go to the ends of the world for to keep.

He didn’t know how long Jumin felt like this for him. He imagined the businessman thinking it would never happen. And Zen would have agreed like the blind idiot he was.

He was still an idiot but he knew, he wanted this more than anything. Want him more than anything.

There were words he wanted to say, cliché yet so important, but it was too soon in his mind. Not yet, not yet. This was all still new for the both of them.

Secretly he wanted Jumin to say it first.

He yawned widely, drowsiness overwhelming him at the worst moment. Jumin smiled.

“You should rest Zen. It’s late. You’ve been through a lot.” 

Sleep… He stared at the pillow containing a dent from his head. This all still didn’t feel real. Panic set in.

He looked back at Jumin who was watching him curiously. Why was he so terrified to fall asleep? Was he afraid he’d die again? 

Or was he scared of what would happen when he woke up?

“Will you lie next to me?”

He felt like a child, asking if someone could check the closet for monsters. Monsters he couldn't fight on his own.

Jumin nodded without hesitation. Zen scooted over and Jumin climbed on, both of them now laying on their backs, their arms touching, refusing to let go of his hand the entire time.

He stared at the ceiling once more. Zen considered painting his ceiling blue when he got back home… if he got back home.

“Zen… If you ever have another dream like that, please tell me immediately.“

His speech was slurred but the request sounded serious.

Dream? What dream was he talking about? He wondered what he meant but Jumin was finally at peace. He didn’t want to ruin the mood by asking more dumb questions.

“I will.” Jumin hummed content. He watched those eyes of his flutter shut, no doubt completely mentally drained. Zen wondered if this was the first time he would properly sleep.

The older man shifted and turned towards him, putting his face near Zen’s shoulder. He could feel his breath tickling his neck, saw strands of black hair lying on his pillow, felt the warmth of his fingers reassuring him over and over that he was there, alive and breathing.

His thoughts slowed. Sleep was consuming him. He couldn’t summon the strength to keep his eyes open anymore.

Everything was a mess. Nothing made sense. He didn’t know what was going to happen when he closed his eyes.

But Jumin was here with him.

He wasn’t afraid anymore.

“Stay with me when you wake up?”

He felt Jumin’s breath steady against his neck.

“Of course.”

With that promise, he allowed himself to be embraced by the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it~ 
> 
> This story is definitely the one that took me the longest to write, if only because I had to rewrite it so often because of all the directions it could have gone in. I need to write some simple, fluffy drabbles again.
> 
> If you want to request anything, chat with me or yell at me, you can comment or reach me on [my tumblr](http://mariamagica.tumblr.com/)!


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